


the story of a very successful adoption

by comatoseroses



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Gen, idk man i just wanted to do a nice little thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-20 11:24:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3648540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comatoseroses/pseuds/comatoseroses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because Washington has impeccable taste in idiots.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the story of a very successful adoption

“Meh. I don’t believe in luck,” Tucker says, fitting Washington’s arm with a gauntlet that belonged to a robot that used to be inhabited by an A.I., which chased another A.I. into a memory module after an impossible victory against the shattered mental remnants of a juggernaut Freelancer.

“You mean to tell me-” Caboose is rougher with Washington’s foot (unintentionally, of course, he’s probably never been intentional in his life), and he has to stop to wince inside the safe boundaries of his new helmet. “-that you, as part of a group of the laziest, most unskilled simulation soldiers I have ever contemplated, just killed the Meta with a Jeep and half of an actual plan, but you don’t believe in luck.”

Bullshit, is what his tone is saying, because that’s exactly what it is.

 

(Tucker laughs like he can hear it, like he expected it.

It’s obnoxious. And way too casual, too familiar to be doing around the soldier who shot one of his little friends and chased them across hell and creation.

It makes his chest hurt.)

 

“Hey, I do believe in gettin’ lucky!” Almost as an afterthought, he adds: “Bow-chicka-bow-wow.”

“Yeah, I, I don’t think we have enough cereal bowls in the base for everyone to Lucky Charms, Tucker. Since we’re talking, you know, about the luck. I was trying to use them to build Church a robot body, but it didn’t work and I had to find him one that was already built. That was where we found you!”

“I know where you found me! And of course you can’t build a robot out of cereal bowls! You’re not Sarge.”

“Well, I think that we are agreeing to disagree.” They sit Washington up, ignoring his bitten-off grunt, and start making work of the chestplates.

“Fuck you. I’ll eat cereal from a cup, but I never agree to disagree. Especially not with an _idiot_.” The sentiment is, oddly enough, not harsh. Well, not as harsh as it could be. This team doesn’t seem to be genuinely bothered by much of anything. “Caboose, man, that’s backwards. Turn it.”

“You did it.”

“Shut up!”

Wash hates them a little.

 

(He thinks about Caboose’s easy trust later: his kindness, his childishness. Remembers where he’d be if it weren’t for him and internalizes that gratitude. Thinks about Tucker’s unfailing honesty, all the potential he doesn’t seem to know or care that he has.

He thinks about a canyon full of idiots and slackers, people he manages to regret knowing on a daily basis, who have more success in surviving than a team of elite Freelancers. Still can’t figure out how, exactly, associating with these assholes managed to endear them to him, how they make him feel like being more than a little broken doesn't even have to matter.

A Blue Army leader’s supposed to take the blame when things go wrong, huh?

_"Freckles- shake."_

He’s pretty sure he won’t have a problem doing that.)


End file.
